“Uh,” Kavita said. She nudged Sorrow’s shoulder. “Earth to Sorrow?”
“And, um, she escaped,” Sorrow said. The sensation of cold vanished, replaced by the weight of the afternoon sun. She rubbed a hand over her face, pushed back her Phillies hat, and cringed when she felt the sweat beneath it. “She broke out of the room they stuck her in, and when she figured out the Abramses were already trying to move onto her land, she drove them away.”
“Why don’t you tell them how she did that?”
Sorrow turned. Cassie Abrams was standing behind her.
“What?” Sorrow said.
Cassie’s smile was full of teeth and gone in an instant. “You left out the best part. Don’t you know how she drove them away? It wasn’t like she just showed up and said boo and they ran screaming.”
The sun was on Sorrow’s back but she felt it all around her, pressing in from every side, and it shouldn’t have been that hot. It hadn’t been that hot only moments before. Her throat was parched, her mouth sticky and dry.
“She set them on fire,” Cassie said. Her words shimmered through the air between them. She could have been crowing, she could have been shouting, but she was speaking so quietly that people all around were turning their ears to listen. “Sound familiar?”
“It wasn’t—” Sorrow’s voice cracked; she cleared her throat. The heat of the sun softened, the space between them settled, as the word fire sank into the grass. She knew this story. This was her family’s story, and she wasn’t going to let Cassie distort it just to embarrass her. “Don’t be stupid. She set a woodpile on fire because they were collecting logs to build a cabin. Not exactly the same thing.”
Cassie dismissed this with a roll of her eyes. “Whatever. She was the one with the granddaughter who went so fucking psycho she murdered six little kids, so I guess that level of crazy is genetic.”
“Jesus, Cass,” Ethan said. “What are you—”
“I’m not talking to you,” Cassie said. She didn’t even look at him. She stared only at Sorrow, her blue eyes narrow and angry. “It’s never really gone away, has it?”
Sorrow knew her face was bright red, and she put on what she hoped was an unimpressed expression. “You’re talking about ancient history like anybody still cares.”
Cassie said, “What the fuck were you doing yesterday?”
“What? Yesterday? I didn’t even see you—”
“Oh my god, give me a break. Are you stupid? My sister. Why the hell have you been harassing my sister?”
There was a drumbeat of dread beneath Sorrow’s ribs. “What? I was just talking to her.”
“What do you want from her? Why the fuck are you bothering her?”
“Okay, seriously, come on.” Ethan reached for Cassie’s arm. “What are you talking about?”
Cassie jerked out of Ethan’s reach. “You stay the fuck away from me. You don’t get to say anything. You’ve made it clear which family you want to be part of. You’re a fucking traitor.”
“Wow,” Kavita said. “Overreaction much?”
Ethan stepped back, hands raised in surrender. “You’re not exactly making me want to change my mind.”
“This isn’t about you!” Cassie shouted, and with a frustrated cry she threw her cup of cider at him. It hit him square in the chest, splashing all down the front of his shirt.
There was a nervous ripple of laughter from the crowd around them.
Ethan wiped apple cider from his face. “Go home, Cassie. Stop being an idiot.”
Cassie had already whirled back to face Sorrow. “You made her cry.”
“Who? Julie?” Sorrow said, incredulous. “She was fine when she—”
“She’s not fine! Why can’t you just fucking leave her alone?” Cassie spun around and shouted at the crowd. “All of you! Just leave us the fuck alone!”
She stormed away, shoving at tourists and kids who got in her way. A mother slapped down a child’s pointing hand. Nearby a boy laughed, a snorting derisive sound. Murmurs of conversation resumed, and the park unfroze as one by one people realized they were staring.
“Right,” Kavita said. “So I’m guessing that’s not normally how the play ends?”
Mahesh snickered, but he stopped abruptly when Ethan glared at him.
19
WHEN THE SUN began to set and the town was emptying for the night, Kavita and Mahesh gave Sorrow a ride home.
“Don’t let Cassie get to you,” Kavita said, twisting around in the front seat. “She’s not worth the angst.”
Sorrow looked through the window at the darkening mountains and fields. They were passing the old Roche farm, which had once been the Smith homestead. “Has she always been like this? I mean, since you’ve known her?”
“You mean, starting random fights in public for no apparent reason?” Kavita said. “Not really. I’ve never seen her flip out like that before.”
“Maybe because nobody has ever stalked her sister before,” Mahesh said.
“I didn’t—”
Kavita rolled her eyes. “He’s joking. Honestly, she should be happy anybody is even talking to Julie.”
“What do you mean?” Sorrow asked.
“Nothing. Just that Julie’s got that whole sad broken-girl thing going on, and it’s not like Cassie going around yelling at people is helping.”
Sorrow wanted to be reassured by Kavita’s words, but she still felt the same hot crush of shame she had felt when all the town’s eyes were on her and Cassie, and with it a sting of guilt telling her: Cassie said she had made Julie cry.
That didn’t feel like the kind of thing Cassie would make up for no reason. It hadn’t been calculated, not like the other things she had said, accusing and needling to get under Sorrow’s skin. It had felt honest, raw and angry and true, and that possibility made Sorrow sick to her stomach. She hadn’t wanted to upset Julie. She hadn’t meant to hurt her.
The open fields of the Abrams land gave way to the Lovegood orchard. Mahesh nosed the car into the driveway.
“You can drop me here,” Sorrow said. “Thanks for the ride.”
“See you Monday,” Kavita said. “It’ll probably be crazy busy with Fourth of July campers.”
A wave from Mahesh, a good-night from Kavita, and Sorrow slammed the door shut. Mahesh turned the car around and they headed down the road a few hundred yards. The taillights glowed red in the twilight, chased them up to their house, blinked out.
Sorrow walked up the driveway, reluctance dragging every step.